A Road Stained Red with Honor
by red lilies
Summary: AU. Plegia and Ylisse have fought on and off again for nearly twenty years. To gain an edge, the Exalt sends his son deep into Plegia after a weapon that could change the course of the battle. But who, not what, he finds sets in motion a plan that has long been dormant as one woman is forced from hiding into the fight she once abandoned and the world she is destined to destroy.


Disclaimer: I do not own Fire Emblem. And there will be spoilers if you haven't finished the game. Which you should, if you haven't, because it's a blast. But feel free to read on either way, it makes me happy. :)

* * *

"I alone cannot change the world, but I can cast a stone across the waters to create many ripples." -Mother Teresa

* * *

The door to the _Tipsy Arrow_ slammed open, barely making a dent in the noise that filled the bustling room. Snow swirled in around the traveler's feet, as heat from the fire hit her face and the smell of roast beef assaulted her nose. Her stomach growled as someone yelled for her to 'shut that blasted door!' and she complied, cutting off the frozen wind. A tavern maid appeared beside her, batting her lashes and presenting a coy smile.

"Well fine sir, what can I do you this evening?"

"A hot meal and a drink would be most appreciated," she replied, not bothering to disguise her voice. Playing the man had its time and place and here and now was not it. Though given the dropping of the maid's smile from pleasant to business, it likely meant she would be receiving slower service this evening. But she was too tired to really care, stomping her boots twice to shake the excess snow and making her way to an open chair near the fire. She sat with a sigh, ignoring the laughter and yelling of the patrons around her, forming her own bubble of peace in the warmth from the flames.

Rosanne was cold in the winter and harsh on the body, if not the worst place to stay during the long months of the year. She had meant to be there earlier in the year, but this and that had waylaid her and her arrival in the country came after the first snowfall. It hardly bothered her, or mattered in the long run. Intentions rarely worked out the way she wanted these days and she had been wandering long enough now that timing and arrivals were trivial at best. Her toes, however, finally starting to thaw in the heat, might argue otherwise. She wiggled them in her boots, a small smile forming.

Her food arrived and she dug in heartily, balancing her mug of ale on her knee as she scooped stew into her mouth with a chunk of nutty bread. The mutton stew burned her mouth and her eyes watered, but her smile only grew. _Nothing in this world a touch of good food won't fix_.

"Well, I haven't seen anyone wolf down Meg's stew like that in a long time." A young man pulled a chair up, swing it around and straddling it. He crossed his arms across the back and cocked his head, sending her a smile that sent all the warning bells off in her head. "You must be new around here."

Swallowing her mouthful, she wiped her lips with a handkerchief. "I suppose so. Is there something you need?"

"Your name, for one, beautiful." She raised an eyebrow and the man shrugged undeterred. "And it's not about what I need, but what you need. Care for a story or a song?"

Her eyes flickered to the lute she hadn't noticed before. A bard then, and one who likely meant her no harm, if not to her money pouch's weight. She glanced back up at his face and was rewarded with a flirtatious wink. The gesture sent a pang of longing through her and she turned her attention back on her meal.

"No thanks," she said, no quite able to hit the edge to her voice. The bard didn't seem to care or perhaps was simply desperate.

"You seem down, beautiful. Come, tell Luff your woes. I have an excellent shoulder to cry on, or so they tell me." Against her better judgment, she looked back up at the grinning bard. It was not his fault he reminder her of people she had long lost, and she had been raised proper, which included looking at those she addressed. Politeness trumped pain almost every time, though that didn't mean she had to play his game.

"I'm not the sharing type."

"Perhaps you should practice then, as it does not suit a lady well to wear heavy burdens. How about starting with your name."

She sighed. The regulars must be really stingy with their coin for him to be so pushy with a stranger. "My name is Marth. And my burdens are my own. I would not wish them on another, even if I believed him to be truly interested." She held up a copper. "Here, for your concern." Perhaps that would be enough to send him along.

The copper disappeared with a flourish of Luff's fingers, but he did not disappear from the chair.

"A story then, to take your mind off it. Perhaps news from the North?" He eyed her, and for a moment Marth felt the urge to clap, acknowledging how well the man plied his trade. She didn't, however, instead shaking her head softly and taking a sip from her mug. The spiced ale filled her mouth with apples and she took a bigger swallow, preparing for the inevitable concession.

"Tell me news from across the sea."

The bard blinked. "Across the sea? Nay, there is nothing much over there but snow and barbarians. A lady has little need of those."

"There's no snow south of Regna Ferox," she said, turning back to her stew. "Plegia sees no snow and Ylisse only in harsh winters."

"Oh-ho. A far traveled lady. Well, then I suppose I will relate what little I know, though it is hardly deserving of a copper." He leaned forward, his eyes dancing in the firelight and his voice dropping to a conspiring whisper. "They say Ylisse has taken up arms once more against Plegia. This isn't like last time," he added as Marth started to raise an eyebrow. "They say it is reminiscent of the onset twenty years ago, before the first failed peace and the assassination of the Exalt's wife. Even the fighting that started again five years past isn't as vicious as the current state of affairs."

The news stung, but it was nothing too unexpected. Marth took a deep breath and relaxed her hands, her mug and bowl already feeling the intensity of her grip. She didn't deserve to get upset or worried about that war anymore. She'd given up that right long ago for a mistake and a failed dream. _A lesser evil is still evil. _She closed her eyes, forcing the thought away. A hand covered her glove one and she jerked her head up to meet Luff's eyes.

"Plegia your home, beautiful? I'm sorry."

Marth swallowed, not willing to correct the misunderstanding. She tugged her hand out of his reach, not meeting his eyes, not wanting to see the pity likely lingering there.

"Do you know why things have intensified?" She asked instead.

Luff shrugged. "Only whispers on the wind, nothing with any weight. Who knows the true thought of royalty? And fighting seems to be the fashion these days. I've heard tale that Walhart of Valm is stirring up trouble on the borders of Chos'sin as well, and troops move within Valm to claim any land not currently his own. It looks like our own dear Duke will have trouble soon enough." He gave her a reassuring smile. "Wipe that frown away beautiful, Walhart likely won't reach Rosanne. No man has successfully united this land since, well, the days of your namesake."

Marth smooth her face, her mind whirling and her heart pounding. Was Walhart moving already? Mentally she ticked off the years, running dates and stringing together half remembered stories. It wasn't time yet, it couldn't be time yet. If it was…no, no there was nothing to worry about. _He_ would stay dead this time, regardless off the stomping of one conqueror across the land. Walhart's plans may include world domination, but they were never contingent on other pieces being in place nor the other way around. The man and his dream had always a side story, important only in his impact on the main conflict.

A conflict that had never even come to pass. Walhart could conquer the world and it would not affect her. _Other than if he reaches his dreams, he could kill all those you love. _She shook her head. He wouldn't. A man who never saw the bigger picture could never know the sacrifice necessary to change the world. And yet, logic and reason aside, something twisted deep insider her. She took another swig of her ale and turned her attention back to Luff who either hadn't noticed her drifting or hadn't cared.

"…and there's these pirates who apparently are making any trade difficult along the coast, not to mention I hear the leader has a fondness for the maidens, giving them spoils of his bounties, yet leaves when they refuse him. If you ask me, any man who –"

"What are the rumors?" she asked cutting Luff off. The bard blinked.

"About the maidens?"

"No, about why Ylisse and Plegia are so volatile right now."

Luff tapped his chin. "Well, some say the Exalt found proof of the Mad King ordering his wife's assassination, others claim the Ylissian prince has gone missing behind enemy lines, a few claim it's not the armies at all, but the dead standing and destroying the land, although I also heard that the Mad King's newly discovered illegitimate child and now heir was kidnapped and –"

"The dead," Marth whispered, her mouth dry and her stomach dropping. "They say the dead are walking?"

"Well, if you ask me that's the least likely off all the stories. The dead stay dead, not even dark mage's who have delved past the atrocities normally considered acceptable by their kin have managed to raise those gone. Marth?"  
She stood before she realized it, her food dropping to the floor and her hand clenching the grip of her sword. The noise of the tavern was drowned out by the pounding in her ears and the screaming in her head.

_This cannot be._ She had stopped it, driven the blade home herself, making deals with those less savory to get there. The vessel was dead and the dead could not be walking. She had made sure, lost everything and any hope for a personal future for the sake of making sure. The dead couldn't be walking. Not unless…not unless….

Her stomach turned and she fought the nausea as she fought the knowledge and certainty welling up inside her. The mistake wasn't in the information, but in her actions. Somehow, she had failed.

She had failed and the world was going to burn. Her grip tightened and she set her jaw. It was not over yet. She could still stop it.

This was only the beginning.

* * *

**A/N:** Ho-boy, here I go. Attempting NaNoWriMo, and possibly going to regret this. XD Going AU for a challenge and because there are so many talented people on this site already telling inverse stories wonderfully (so not even going to try and compete! Yay laziness.).

Every chapter is coming off the press hot, due to the NaNo reason and no beta, and also therefore likely to contain mistakes and such. Please forgive me, and I'll try to do my best to avoid and proof them.

Your criticism, thoughts and opinions [and support, maybe? :D] are warmly welcomed.


End file.
